Superman for a Day

Happy New Year everyone!

Do you know what some folks say about New Year’s Eve, that what you wear or how you behave on that night before the New Year crosses over, you’ll most likely have or be for the whole year through? Well, on New Year’s Eve, the last few hours of 2004, I wore my beautiful, new Superman t-shirt that night (freshly bought off one of Greenhills’ stalls!). I wore it from Thanksgiving Mass to the dinner table to the countdown to the fireworks, and ne’er did I shuck it off ‘til bedtime. I put on my Superman Special DVD on the living-room player to greet the New Year, and I stayed glued to my seat, not rising for anything else save to (super-speed) set the table and to grab some water from the fridge. Can you imagine? A big 21-year-old kid, watching Superman in rapt attention, laughing, gasping and cheering, wearing a Super-shirt and striking Super-poses as if to fly off into the sunrise as well. My mother could do nothing save to roll her eyes and take a quick nap: “tell me when you’re done watching, wake me up at eleven-thirty”. Good thing, too; I really don’t know what she would say if she caught me going crazy upstairs, tucking a loose-fitting red t-shirt into the back of my collar, zipping ‘round the room yelling “Soo-permaaaan!”, and giggling myself silly. All this to jumpstart the New Year.

Yep, people do get a little crazy when they play dress-up.

Nah, don’t worry, I haven’t always lost my marbles like this over Big Blue. Back then in my younger years, I used to think he was an okay superhero, no different in standing from Batman or Aquaman, and was one of the rare few who could wear his suit inside-out and still make it look good. Boy, was I sheep-sighted.

I guess it all began when the news broke just late 2004: Christopher Reeve, the hero who taught humanity how to fly from a wheelchair, passed away at the age of 54. All of a sudden, the whole world fell into a hush and mourned the loss of this one man who once donned the cape and became what everyone aspired to be: a hero. I was moved by the wave of emotion that went around online: bloggers and journal-keepers around the globe expressing their sincerest condolences to the rest of the world, so many people who wished they could spin the world back, even for just a while. I began thinking how Mr. Reeve must have been truly a great person, a hero, to stand for something that has inspired so many people to dream and aim higher. This newfound respect and admiration began welling up deep inside of me for Christopher Reeve, and more so for Superman and Clark Kent.

I remember reading one blog entry about Mr. Kent, calling him “the poster child and role model of every geeky guy”. That little statement held much for me. My wonderment for him grew and grew, and has never stopped growing until now.

Now I’m all grown up, I guess I’ll finally have to come out into the open and say: Superman is one of my heroes. I finally have a superhero I can truly own looking up to. Some folks may say it’s a laughable concept, what with Big Blue not being human, and thus his powers, his greatness, his altruism, and his compassion being impossible to attain. But I guess that’s what makes heroes what they are. Heroes point out to us regular folk where we could go, what we could become, and help us dream of being all we can hope to be. And seeing this vision makes us want to chase after it. It may be impossible to pin down, but I guess the old saying still holds true here: aim for the moon, so when you do go after it and miss, you fall among the stars.

Dreaming is still good for everyone, most specially for grown-ups.

Just yesterday Monday, I went back to school, first school day of 2005, in my superman shirt. (nicely laundered and fabric-softened, thank you.) Call me silly, but it felt like it was going to be the best day ever, like I knew it was going to be a really great year. I caught myself zooming to my classes, my imaginary red cape whipping behind me. Yeah, it can really get to me. *sheepish grin*

Along the way home from an MRT ride to Ortigas, some middle-aged American guy yelled (more like spieled) "SUPERMAAAAAANN!!!" at me. I really couldn't help but grin; I was zooming again. James just told me I should have yelled back at the guy, "don't wear pink boxers in public next time!"